


Uneasy allies

by Vodka20 (FakeCirilla9)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bad Flirting, Christmas Fluff, Death Eater's verse, M/M, Mental Instability, Romance, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Torture, Unforgivable Curses (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-26 15:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21860311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/Vodka20
Summary: A romance budding in an unlikely situation
Relationships: Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom, Bartemius Crouch Jr./Rabastan Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Voldemort
Kudos: 14





	Uneasy allies

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for romanticizing evil things

“So. Are we going?” Rabastan paced the room anxiously. “Where is your girl? Don't tell me she cowered.”

“Pfff, from finding _him_? Nothing could keep her away from the dear friend Tom. If it was me who was missing, then you could wonder if she didn't change her mind.”

Rodolphus answer was perfectly unmoved, he spoke with all the calmness of someone who didn’t love his wife. It was a marriage of convenience after all.

“Chill out, little brother, have a gulp.” He advised, pouring them both glasses of fire whiskey.

“Then where is she?” Rabastan hissed, but took the offered drink.

Rodolphus shrugged. “How am I supposed to know? Maybe gathering intelligence still.”

At that moment the hearthstone activated, green veiled the warm orange of flames, and Bella flood in with an another wizard.

„What in the Hell is he doing here?!” cried Rabastan as soon as he recognized the newcomer. “It’s Crouch!”

„Calm down, he’s with us.”

„That nerd? Son of an auror?”

„He’s with us, I said,” snapped Bella.

The lad was thin, bony. Not even lean, but more lanky, he had a figure of a boy who has not yet turned fully a man. None of the Sacred Twenty Eight families’ members were sturdy like some peasants, true, but the young Crouch stood out even among them.

And he seemed shy. Timid even, with how he didn’t say a word, when they argued about his right to be there. Rabastan sizzled in anger.

“You're endangering mission!” he shouted at his sister-in-law.

“As a matter of fact it’s thanks to him that we know where to go. He saw his father’s letter.”

„And if it's a trap?!”

“It’s not! I trust him.”

And so the boy went with them. Of course Bella’s will won over his. Of course Rodolphus did not say a thing.

* * *

They apparated at a safe, magically undetectable distance from the house and beat the rest of the way afoot.

Standing at the doors, the Crouch boy took out his wand and Rabastan noticed with growing irritation that his hand forms in a gesture for Alohomora spell.

Younger Lestrange shoved him off the way.

“That’s how it’s done, you upright boy,” and he bombarded the doors. Wood exploded into splinters, some of the plaster dropped off in specks.

There was a twist to Barty’s mouth. It was a first sign of annoyance that Rabastan noticed in all his idleness till now.

When they entered, a chaos erupted at once. There was a lot of screaming and wands were wielded as spells were hastily casted. They were all young and green, the kids playing war. Boys with too much power and too little restraints made the Death Eater’s army before they became fully men.

Nobody commanded now during the action. Nobody kept discipline. Nobody adhered to any rules.

In the mayhem some ricocheted Confundus shot Rabastan. The effect was lessened and he was able to stay standing and even move his head a little, but couldn’t do much more. Encouraged by his wife’s success, Frank Longbottom prepared to cast a spell at Rodolphus. Rabastan tried to warn his brother, but there was no need.

The wand flied off the young auror’s hand as Barty got into action. Watching him cast wordless charms at a lightning speed made Rabastan review his opinion about the brat a bit. Maybe he was not that useless after all. It was his first positive thought on the new addition to their little party.

Bella was the first to cast Crucio. She aimed at Alice, yet Mr. Longbottom casted himself in the way. He jumped, full-bodied shielding his wife. Thanks to Barty he was devoid of his wand and the fool didn’t think of retrieving it first, but listened to his instincts to protect his love.

That was why Rodolphus and Bella will always be winning at such matches. Pair of cold bastards. They’d never sacrifice the cause for one another.

Frank was writhing on the floor at the end of Bella's Unforgivable Curse. Her eyes shone brightly with an unhealthy glint as she tortured the auror.

Alice kneeled in tears next to her husband, instead of continuing her fight and Rodolphus expelliarmed her with ease.

Rabastan watched as Barty creeped closer. Raised his wand. And casted Crucio as well. At Alice.

There was a look at Crouch Jr.’s face that Rabastan couldn't tear his eyes from.

Bella laughed shrilly, letting go of Frank for a while.

Rodolphus asked him a question in a cold, calm voice.

“Where is the Dark Lord?”

“I don't know, I can't, please don't hurt her,” stuttered Frank.

“We won't stop as long as you won't answer.”

“But I don't know!” his shout nearly swallowed Alice’s cries.

“Tsk, don't lie,” Rodolphus, collected as usual, didn’t even raise his voice. “Just tell us where he is and it’ll end. Not earlier.”

Barty was still concentrated at his prey. And Rabastan still couldn't get enough of the look on his face.

“Stop, stop, please, don't torture her. I'll tell you what you want,” wailed Frank.

“Hey, kid,” said Rodolphus.

Barty ignored him.

Only Bella’s piercing voice, accompanied by a shove from her delicate hand broke Barty out of it.

“Stop!”

Bella fell to Frank, taking his rumpled shirt in her claws. “What do you know, what? Where is T- my Lord? Where is he? What have you done with him?!”

“Maybe let him answer? Give him a moment to respond?” suggested Rabastan halfheartedly, as the spell he was under was wearing off gradually.

Rodolphus knew it was useless to reason with his wife at moments like that, so he didn’t even try.

Frank looked at Alice, who's lying there, not screaming anymore, with her scared eyes turned at Frank. She mouthed _I love you_ at him.

The exchange didn’t slip Bella’s attention. She moved to the girl.

“Maybe you do know, darling, hmm?”

Frank threw himself in their direction, but Rodolphus immobilized him with a spell. “What did I say? Not until you tell will it end.”

Bella crouched near the exhausted Alice and wisped her hair – tousled due to Barty’s excessive torture – out of the auror’s face. The gentle, almost seductive touch bore a hidden threat in it; like a nail piercing the skin.

Soon Bella put her curved wand to use. She cut Alice’s skin, first without any plan, then subconsciously carving the lines that mirrored the Dark Mark. Once it was enough to touch the black tattoo on her own or her husband’s forearm to feel connected to Tom instantly. Now the signs paled.

Bella sought in the auror’s blood what she lost in magic ink lines.

Alice shrieked and wriggled, trying to get out of Bellatrix’s clutches.

Rabastan casted a spell as well to help his brother hold Frank in place. Barty watched the scene quietly, never turning away. His eyes fed on Bella’s bloody spectacle.

Rabastan was aware he's basically devouring the boy with his own eyes himself now.

It went on like this. A short Crucio. A cutting curse. Rabastan broke Frank’s wand. Rodolphus quiet voice demanded answers as monotonous incessant background sound.

_Where is he. Tell us. Don't lie. We know you know the answer. Where is he._

Alice’s skin took on an ashen shade. Her eyes were less horrified and more empty by each passing moment.

Frank wept as a child at this point, his voice was barely coherent. (Which infuriated Bella more and she cut another welts on Alice’s body.)

“Don't hurt her, please, hurt me, hurt me instead,” begged Frank through tears.

“It can be arranged,” smiled Rabastan, seeing an opening for himself. He glanced at Barty.

The boy seemed quiet and unnoticeable again, but by now Rabastan has saw his potential. And his interest was picked. Really picked. In his peripheral vision he noticed his brother smirking at him knowingly.

Rabastan cast the Cruciatus, which was intense, yet short; same as Frank’s responding shout. Rabastan was never the best at charms that demanded high levels of concentration and never anything deconcentrated him as much as the boy standing so close to him now.

Frank’s red eyes shifted to focus at silent Barty.

“I know you,” he whispered. “You’re official Crouch’s son, aren’t you? What are you doing with them? You’re so similar to your father-”

Something in Frank’s speech must have triggered Barty, for the boy casted Crucio at Alice and his face twisted in an anger Rabastan had not seen before. The anger soon interlaced with the more familiar obsessive expression he gained whenever the Unforgivable Curse flowed from his wand. Gradually the wrath was replaced entirely and only the scientific interest and sick fascination remained.

Awe sang in Rabastan’s veins at the performance and he joined in. Standing arm to arm, shoulder to shoulder with Barty he casted the curse at Frank. The black magic surged in a perfect tune, Rabastan could nearly feel the synchronicity. They kept it up until they run out of breath and out of energy to keep feeding the spell without the danger to themselves.

Rabastan was breathing hard. Barty next to him licked his mouth.

Rabastan couldn’t help himself anymore and he grabbed Barty, pulling him in for a kiss.

He barely registered the room around them both: two unmoving bodies, Bella pillaging the house in search for some useful clues, smug Rodolphus propped against the wall, staring blatantly at his little brother and the young Crouch.

Barty himself was unresponsive at first, perhaps too shocked to react. But before Rabastan could begin to worry if maybe the lad had something against the kiss, hesitantly that restless tongue darted out again and Rabastan hummed in approval and pressed himself even closer to the boy.

“You know what,” he whispered, when they broke apart, “I've been wrong about you. You're alright, more than alright.”


End file.
